Under the Bridge
by 4Lee
Summary: Thor is a college freshman with a sports scholarship, looking to get the most out of a golden opportunity; Loki is just looking to survive the year. A (Page-turning? Angsty? Coming of age? You decide) University AU with a sprinkling of corporate espionage, street racing, love in cold climates and calculated murder, all for your viewing pleasure. Slow burn, Thorki.
1. December, 2013

One quick note - I'm going to be updating this simultaneously at AO3 under the same name, using the pseud IvyLee.

The only difference between this version and that version is that there'll be notes at the top/bottom of chapters so if you want to read my ramblings/get links to stuff like pictures of things the characters own, then you should read it over there.

The only other thing I have to say is that this is probably going to have dark bits, and if it does, I'll put warnings at the top of the relevant chapter (_only_ at AO3, though!) and update the work's rating accordingly. Apart from that, happy reading, and please, please review! It means so much to me. Imagine that I'm making puppy dog eyes at you right now as you read this.

-Ivy

* * *

He was, as always, not fast enough to outpace it, and not strong enough to turn and fight. Loki could push himself to his physical limits and then, because even though he wasn't conscious enough to realize he was dreaming, he was aware of the liminality of his position, push himself some more, but it would never be enough. He was caught in a stifling mass of snagging limbs, with a bloated red sky above him and a mass of something sickeningly pulsing beneath him, that, although he wouldn't bring himself to look down at it, he couldn't help but smell.

Loki was suffocatingly aware that he was about to die.

He waited until he felt panted breath on the nape of his neck and had no choice but to spin around, snarling, and face the monster head on, determined to at least kick and struggle, but it was no use. In one easy shove, it caught him full on the chest and sent him crashing down, winded, digging claws like wire into his collarbone and shoulders. He felt himself pressed down, down into the rotting earth, and vines like rope caught his wrists and dragged them up over his head so that he couldn't defend his face or neck.

Loki braced for the killing blow, but it never came. Instead, he was pulled further into the earth until he was completely submerged by it, and choking on the smell. That _smell_.

_This is _flesh, he realized, stilling entirely. _This is rotting flesh_.

And then he was falling through the darkness.

He was falling, falling, and the wind was battering him so hard that he could barely think, and he twisted around as much as he could, reaching for a handhold in the fat and muscle, but he just kept falling.

He could see now that he was falling through a shaft of mirrors, and that sooner or later he was going to have to land. He could see the end. At the base of the shaft was a pinprick of light that expanded like an ink blot, and he was falling towards it, and he realized now that he was screaming, but he just couldn't hear it over the wind and light, and the light came up to meet him as he fell, terrified, into it, and then he-

And then we finally woke up.

* * *

Clapping a hand over his mouth, he threw himself bodily out of the damp sheets, struggling to kick them off of him. The room was pitch black, the curtains having been shut before he slept, and Loki wanted to throw open the windows as quickly as he could. Instead, he knelt on the wood paneling, as still as he could, and tried to calm his breathing and ground himself.

It was just a dream. It was just a dream.

Hand on his heart, he let out one last breath before getting up to draw the blinds, pausing for a moment before thinking to check his wristwatch.

It was 3:04. He wouldn't go back to sleep.

Instead, he chose to take a long shower and dry his hair as noisily as he could in a display of childish passive aggression towards his neighbors. He was fairly sure he'd been shouting in his sleep, in which case, they'd be up anyways, and hopefully deciding not to call the cops

Loki drew out the process of hairstyling as long as he could and then used a brush to tentatively cover up the scratches where he had clawed at his own neck in his sleep, but it was still only 3:55 when he finished. Obsessively, he washed his face again, brushed his teeth, ate half an apple, felt sick, threw it out and brushed his teeth again, and then trudged gloomily around his apartment, looking to indulge his sour mood.

The apartment was slightly high-end, because he could afford it, and sported warm, clean, classic décor with a modern edge, which made it homely but spacious, which was exactly how he wanted it. Loki wasn't really one to personalize living space, but he was satisfied enough after a term here that he no longer felt like a temporary inhabitant, or out of his rights when he called it 'his place'.

He ghosted through his kitchenette and lowered living area and past the unusually cluttered 'spare' room where he stashed electronics and suchlike, useless monitors and wrenches and other spare parts and what might have been part of a cooper engine piled high next to the desk with his laptops.

He specifically didn't make his bed. He even knocked over some books, confusing the papers tucked neatly into them and losing his places. Nothing helped.

Loki had notes to revise, plants to water, bills to sort through, people to call if he needed and dubiously moralled businessmen to quietly and anonymously heckle on the net, but eventually he resolved to drag one of his scruffier dining chairs onto the balcony and wait to watch the dawn over Midgard, deliberately leaving the TV on for background noise.

Midgard consisted of the city proper and the University of Midgard, which was such a central cog in the workings of the former that they might as well be one and the same, given that they'd both popped into existence more or less simultaneously and that the city would be nothing without MU to fund and populate it.

MU functioned peculiarly – it had a collegiate system, with only one college, Iceland, situated not on the main campus but to the west, closer to the sea, where the other half of the Biology department was. Unusually, however, actually joining a college was optional.

The benefits to choosing to not join a college (or to become, as they were affectionately nicknamed, a grift), as advertised by the University, were that you could pick and choose which clubs, formals and teams to join or attend, regardless of the college that hosted them, unless they were exclusive, which was fairly rare.

Loki had simply not wanted to have to live in halls and possibly share a double room.

The city, being inhabited mostly by students, was so littered with unions and government offices that the place had become, in Loki's mind, essentially one massive safety net for the naïve or unprepared. The youth of it's populace practically necessitated it.

Despite, or perhaps because of this, Midgard had an ensorcelling and genuine sort of gung-ho attitude to it that would inevitably catch you up in itself and thrust you through it's taverns and kitsch corner stores, unsanctioned societies and hidden bars and seemingly endless parks and gardens; all walks of life seemed to clash brilliantly and intertwine there. As a characteristic observer, and someone who valued privacy, Loki contented himself with merely allowing all this mess to carry on around him while he kept to himself.

Still, he could appreciate Midgard for what it was, and that was a city of doors.

One such door lead to Vanir motors, and Freya. His own personal safety net. If, Loki mused to himself, he could only survive this one last day of forced social interaction, he could sequester himself within the autoshop and spend the rest of the year tinkering under bonnets and maybe in some hard drives, with Freya down the hall and Angie at the other end of his phone. Hopefully he could spend the entire Christmas season without having to endure a single instance of small talk that way.

Loki smirked silently at the view outside and tilted back his head, letting his hair flow around his neck, intending to remain there until his phone's alarm roused him permanently.

This was obviously a pipe dream, but he knew through experience that if he kept unusual hours and put enough effort into it, he could more or less make it happen.

All he needed to do was survive the day.


	2. December, 2013 II

Loki stumbled into class with as much subtlety as he could muster. He was, due to snow on the metro tracks and the city's pathetically under budgeted bus system, hideously late, and soaking wet, and he should have taken the Ninja.

He'd at least had the foresight to enter the lecture hall through the rear fire exit. It meant could deposit himself in the vacant back row with relative inconspicuousness.

It being the last day of term, the hall was fairly empty. Most of his peers had mooched off to Austria or Whistler or wherever while the flights were still cheap, figuring they had better things to do than cope with professors sloppily wrapping up courses they'd already achieved credits for. Several people turned to blink lazily at him as he snuck in, but for the most part they kept their eyes fixed glumly on the projector. Even Loki's chem professor seemed uninspired to carry on.

Loki figured it'd be a better use of his time to crack open his Notebook and start the evaluation for the prac he had to finish next period, to clear up his time over the holiday. His Chemistry classmates had initially found it a novelty that he would do Physics or programming work at the back of a class that seemed to waste most of its time covering and recovering chiral compounds, but this interest had worn off quickly. Thankfully.

The reason for Loki's having so much variance in his classes despite attending a British university was not so interesting anyways. He was simply on a Natural Sciences course with enough flexibility that it allowed him to study several separate sciences if he wanted, as well as a non-science subject in a minor stream.

Loki furrowed his brow and hid a yawn. This class was dull and he'd be glad to be rid of it. His professor was uninteresting. _Chemistry_ was dull, and had been a mistake. He'd drop it at the end of the school year.

The coursework he was motoring away at was insipid too; everything he wrote down was more or less copied from his specification, or SparkNotes.

He trawled his way through the chem session and the resistivity practical after that, which he'd already done in 6th form college, ate quietly in the library and made sure he was early for his next, lit (blessed, blessed 19th century industrial literature) class, only to realize he'd left a satchel with half of his handwritten notes for the practical task lying around somewhere during the day.

Loki could have kicked himself. He _needed_ those. And there wasn't enough time now to go searching for them before class started. So he'd have to waste the afternoon of his last day of school that year in the snow, trudging between departments and retracing his steps to find it. Of course.

Loki's afternoon class went much the same way as the morning ones, except now, were it possible, he was in an even dourer mood. He devoted his time to telling people to fuck off with as much effectiveness as possible using only his eyes. It was a honed trait. Not even the sight of eternally chipper Thor Odinson, when he ambled in sheepishly half an hour late, could brighten Loki's day. He had resolved to remain miserable.

Thor, although he probably didn't know it, was the closest thing Loki had to a friend in Midgard. That being said, their relationship hadn't extended past formalities in the hallways and Thor trying, once, to recruit Loki for some martial arts club he did after seeing Loki catch another student's tipped lunch tray without averting his gaze from a worksheet.

Angie was trying to encourage Loki to take this relationship to the next level – the big 'introduce yourself to him' – but Loki didn't know that it was worth it. In his experience, the closer you got to people, the more you realized that they were human, and flawed, and sometimes complete assholes, and then your idolized view of them crumbled. Far be it for Loki to know Thor as anything other than a winning goof with the body of a Greek god. He would content himself to sit behind Thor in class, eavesdrop on his conversations with those members of his closer friendship group who were in the same stream, and make eye contact with the back of his head for longer than was socially acceptable.

Their personalities probably didn't mesh well anyways.

* * *

Thor was deliberately tardy packing his things away after Dr Sitwell finished his lecture, and he could tell by the disproving look on Pepper and Natasha's faces that they knew exactly why. Steve glanced, confused, between the three of them, before raising his eyebrows in realization and giving a tired grin-slash-eye roll.

'You're ridiculous, Thor', he said, and then paused to try to find the right words. 'That guy-'

'He's an asshole.'

'Tash! Come on.' This was Pepper, glancing towards the back of the hall and waving at Natasha to lower her voice. Ever the interceder.

'What? He is. Thor, I don't know what your thing is with him. He's a rude prick. He's an Ice Queen. Do you have any idea how many of my girlfriends came to me crying during fresher's because of that guy?'

Thor was hoping that he could pout enough to inspire sympathy in Natasha, but she wasn't stupid and it wasn't working. No matter how pathetically he scuffed his shoes.

'No, listen, Thor, Tasha's right,' Pepper nodded. The traitoress. 'People like Loki… they…'

'They're born with a pretty face and they realize by the time they're potty trained that it means they'll never have to develop a personality to go with it. _Or_, alternatively, they don't realize that they _do_ need to not be a total dick to everyone around them until it's too late. Or they never realize it at all.'

Thor gave up his bid for compassion and leaned back in his seat, arms folded. 'Natasha.'

'What do you see in him, Thor?' asked Pepper, now standing with the rest of them, clacking her nails on the desk. 'Why do you want to be his buddy so badly?'

Thor saw in Loki someone who was bright, and shy, and had put up barriers, and skipped class too frequently for it to be normal. But there was something else to him, too. He had an intrigue that Thor was shocked no one else noticed. Not to mention that he had the sort of face and body that Thor wouldn't mind having writhing underneath him. Not that he'd ever admit it out loud. Not that he was ashamed of it. Not- he- well, there it was. There was something about Loki that just overwhelmed Thor. Nobody he knew made him feel this much like an incapable child.

Thor pointedly ignored the others and gazed up to where Loki was clacking away at his laptop, cheek on palm. 'I'm gonna ask him.'

Natasha rolled her eyes, giving him a hopeless gesture before meandering off with Steve, who had already given up on the conversation and was chuckling to himself.

Pepper stayed. 'They invented eBay for a reason, you know', she pointed out, head cocked. Thor just flashed her that annoying grin that said he was going to do exactly what he wanted to do, which made Pepper scoff and slap him over the shoulder. 'Be that way, you ass,' she smirked, and then: 'See you at Tony's tonight.'

Thor listened to Pepper leave with the others, before scooping up his books and treading softly up the stairs.

* * *

Loki couldn't be bothered to go back to the library to consolidate his notes, seeing as it wouldn't take him over 20 minutes. It was peaceful enough where he was.

Or, it should be.

Five minutes after class had ended, and Loki was painfully aware that Thor's bunch was still chattering by the front entrance. What made it worse was that he couldn't pick up what they were saying, so he couldn't even judge them for it.

Ugh. People. Go away.

Sitwell was a joy to listen to, but some of the stuff he had to say was absolute rubbish. Everything was phallic according to him. Characters live in houses with chimneys? Chimneys look like dicks. Phallic imagery. Characters are human? Humans are long and sort of pointy. Phallic. Maybe Sitwell was just compensating for something.

But what he really didn't get was what Sitwell had to say about interclass relationships in industrial cities. Even as the noise died down and Loki could engross himself properly in the material, it didn't make sense to him. Loki wasn't guileless or unaware; he just didn't understand where Sitwell was coming from with his points of view.

About 3 feet away from where he was sitting, somebody cleared their throat.

Loki, who had presumed himself to be totally alone, jumped straight out of his seat like a startled cat, only to land back in it on his ass, jaw hanging open in shock. Thor Odinson was standing directly in front of him, facial expression indicating that he was somewhere in between feeling concerned at the reaction and trying not to shit himself laughing.

Loki scoffed and tried to catch his breath, forcibly relaxing his shoulders and shutting his laptop lid. 'Thor! Ah. What is- I- you- can I…?' _Nice_, he thought. _Perfect_. He lamely gestured at Thor, surreptitiously starting to pack his things away at the same time. 'Can I help you?

Thor twisted his lips in an obvious effort not to grin, before turning around slightly so he could indicate Loki's satchel, which hung over his, Thor's, shoulder. 'You left your books in the physics department earlier. The janitor had them.'

Loki's face blanked in surprise. 'What were you doing in Physics?'

'I…' Thor frowned as if he knew what he was about to say wouldn't be received well. 'Actually, I was looking for you.'

Loki's posture remained calculatedly neutral. Thor was right. This wasn't OK. It was creepy. Furthermore, Thor was, for all intents and purposes, practically looming over him. The apprehension in the pit of his stomach was beginning to coil into something significantly nastier. Loki was beginning to wonder whether he should have booked it to the library when he had the chance.

They were completely alone here. Loki was within Thor's physical reach. Why had Thor been looking for him in the SHIELD labs earlier? The Physics and English departments were just under 15 minutes away from each other on foot. Thor had known he would see Loki in a few hours anyways. Why did Thor have his things? Why had Thor deliberately remained after class to approach him when he was clearly occupied?

Thor seemed to have become aware of Loki's unease because he stopped and took a step back. 'Look, Loki. The reason I was looking for you… I wanted to…'

And then he paused, for far too long. Neither of them moved. Thor glanced around the room before returning his gaze to Loki. He was nervous, which was uncharacteristic of him. This was all wrong. Thor sighed, shrugged, and then took a breath. 'Can I ask you a question?'

No, no, no, no, no, Loki did not like where this was going. At _all. _He stood up, drawing himself up as much as he could next to Thor, who towered over him on a good day, and slung his rucksack across his shoulder. 'You could,' he remarked, nonchalantly. 'Or, alternatively, you could, you know, keep your nose out of other people's business, and know when to weirdly trail around strangers after class and when to _fuck off_.'

Loki took Thor's reaction to this – that was to say, Thor's utter shock - as an opportunity to twist himself smoothly through the gap between his classmate and the desk that ran across the entire row, following it to the end and walking smartly down the stairs. He made sure not to run until he was through the doorway and out of sight.

Loki darted down the corridor, blushing with adrenaline and embarrassment and close to tears.

He had no idea what he had just done, or why. All he knew was that he had to get _out_ of there. He could hear Thor calling out to him, but that just spurred him on further. He practically tore out of the building, down a green and then across the empty street, now floodlit as the sun set. Already on one of the borders between campus and city, Loki took himself around the back of a local pub where the bins were kept, glancing behind himself only once, and crumpled against a wall.

He counted to 10 with his face in his hands, tried to stop shaking, and then swore once and told himself not to be so pathetic, and to get a move on. He lit a cigarette and smoked the whole thing. Then, he realized: it was snowing and he'd left his jacket back in the lecture theatre.

And his _books_. _Thor had his books._ Oh, God, what a _mess._ What an _idiot _he was.

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose and paced in a circle, glancing down at the ground in the hopes that it'd swallow him up, but to no avail.

Also, he was going to miss his bus. His shitty, humid, underheated, once-every-half-an-hour bus. Where, oh where was his beautiful little Ninja when he needed it? What was up with all this thrice-damned _snow_?

He could buy a new coat. He could get his coat from lost and found next term. There was no way on earth he was going to miss his bus to go and get his coat – and books - from _Thor,_ who was probably still standing dumbstruck in the empty lecture theatre.

Fuck the books. He had electronic copies of almost everything at home. He probably had notes from the last prac he did. They were more or less identical.

He could forge the data. It's not like they were going to use it for anything important. He hadn't had any anomalies anyways. R is proportional to l. Big surprise. OK.

Everything was going to be OK. He'd just work around this. Coat, books, satchel. He wasn't forgetting anything else. He had his laptop. It would be fine. He would go home, and he would have a shower. Fine.

Waiting at the bus stop just a block away, Loki reflected that this day could probably not have been much worse if every supernatural force on Earth had linked efforts to make it so. He stood in the corner of the shelter with another cigarette between his lips, shivering, and stared at his phone, which had no new messages, until the bus came, 5 minutes late, right on queue.

Loki was the last on board, and as he stepped up to greet the conductor, shaking snow from his hair, something clicked in his mind and he froze in absolute horror.

This was it. This was the climax, the pinnacle, of his absolutely horrible fucking day. Loki _couldn't_ get on the bus and he _couldn't_ ride it home. Loki couldn't get on the bus because, since he knew he'd get free lunch from Ms Tarnaki in the forum, and because his rucksack was full, he'd left his wallet, with his money and his student's public transport pass in one of the card slots, in the outside pocket of the same satchel that had his prac notes in it, and was currently, probably, sitting on the shoulder of Thor Odinson.

Loki opened his mouth and closed it again, speechless for the second time that day. He took a deep breath.

Then he began to talk to the conductor. He didn't shout. He didn't whine. He just tried, very evenly, to get the woman to empathize with him. He started to explain himself. He would _not _say 'it's Christmas.' Even he wouldn't stoop so low. But either way, she wouldn't buy it. She was tough.

Loki was just about to resign himself to his fate when an arm reached over his shoulder to present the conductor with a pass. Obviously someone had come up behind him and then decided they'd waited enough. Hence Loki's surprise when, trying to wriggle his way off the bus and onto the pavement again, the conductor grinned condescendingly at him and took the card from whoever was behind him, handing it to Loki and waving him onboard. Loki made a puzzled face at the conductor and then a skeptical one at the pass.

Wait.

For a moment, it was if time itself had been drawn out, and Loki was damningly stuck in this moment. He became critically aware of every huff and shuffle, every impatient eye in the entire bus.

This was his. It was _his _pass. Which meant-

Loki felt sick to his stomach. Which meant that the person standing behind him was Thor.

He turned, face still comically incredulous, to face the blonde, who took the most apologetic inhalation of breath Loki had ever heard and handed him his coat and satchel.

Loki didn't move as Thor got off the bus. He was paralyzed with shame. Loki wasn't religious, but he was fairly sure that if God was real, when he died, he would go to hell. And in hell, Loki would have to relive this scene over and over again for the rest of eternity.

Thor, for his part, looked truly regretful, if a little amused, but as if he realized the situation was too serious to laugh at. He bowed his head softly and turned away, pausing once and briefly.

'Merry Christmas, Loki.'

And then the doors slid shut.

* * *

Loki walked to the end of the bus with a completely impassive expression. He sat down in the empty back row. He took out the file with his resistivity notes, cracked it open in the middle, and buried his face in it.

He didn't move until he reached his stop.


	3. (July, 2011)

Dr Vidia did not smile at her patient as he entered, or visibly react when he refused her handshake to steal around the coffee table and perch delicately on her couch.

She would not throw pretenses into the air. She made no attempt to comfort him. She knew he would scorn the hollowness behind such familiar expressions from a stranger. She knew, through his file and through the babbled explanations of Freyr Njordson down several long-distance lines, that Loki Liesmith wasn't the type to fall for it, whatever 'it' may be.

In this light, Angrboda tried to present a version of herself to Loki which was as close to the reality as possible, and that was someone who was cool, tolerant and level-headed. She had dealt all through her career with people who were dancing on knife edges – even as a student she had volunteered at ChildLine, talking teenagers out of blowing out their brains in between coffee breaks. She knew what it meant to hold lives in her hands.

She also knew that she was going to do her best to help her patient, and not only because it was her job. She had seen colleagues grow insensitive after years of repeated experience, and vowed never to let herself do the same. From what she understood, this single session might be, for Loki, the difference between life and death. What a game to play.

As all this flashed through Angrboda's mind, she arranged the hem of her skirt over her crossed legs, and Loki inspected her couch as if he would rather be sitting out in the street. This nonchalance of his was a very well practiced façade, she knew. She was more than accustomed to patients putting up false fronts to defend themselves.

Dr Vidia finally broke off their mutual visual inspections to introduce herself; Loki interrupted before she could finish a sentence.

'I know who you are. Obviously. And you me,' he said, before continuing his inspection of the doctor and her office. Despite being raised in America, his accent was distinctly British, like his mother. Which was going to be worth investigation later on.

'I had rather expected a chaise longue,' he noted with a sober huff, as if the seating arrangements were, to him, the world's most solemn issue. 'But I suppose we can make do. Such a well-tended desk,' he nodded towards the room's windowed wall, 'and… is that your daughter?' It wasn't. He knew that.

Angrboda sighed quietly through her nose. 'Loki. I understand if, and, as you know, why, you don't feel ready to talk sincerely to me. But I think there are other ways to get around that than this… rather obvious inversion tactic.' She quirked a brow at him, giving her first smile since he'd entered. 'Actually, I'd expected a bit more from you. But then again I suppose you aren't really trying, are you? You're probably weary of all this by now.'

Loki, who had angled his head away from Dr Vidia during her dialogue and pointedly avoided her gaze, slid his eyes back over to her and fixed her with a stare. He had stilled almost entirely.

Loki was not a narcissist, but she knew nevertheless that he wasn't going to open up to her until she could prove herself, and her intelligence, to him. If Loki knew that Dr Vidia was getting to him, then he would also know that she was, in his eyes, a worthy opponent, at least somewhat. This session was going to be as much about showing that she _could_ see, really see, and understand, and, hopefully, help Loki, as it would be actually doing it.

Well. Angrboda was more than confident in her analytical abilities.

'I also,' she continued, 'suppose that I'm more or less accurate in my estimations of what you're thinking about me, and this,' she gestured around the room, 'right now. But you should know, Loki, that _I'm _ready to take _you_ seriously. And if _you _don't want to talk, you should know that I am. And so I will.' _Time to cut the crap, as they say. _They would get nowhere here if they spent the whole time working against each other.

So Dr Vidia talked to Loki. She covered the basics – she told him what he'd done that wasn't his fault and what had been done to him that wasn't his fault, and listed the psychological issues she, as a trained professional, could tell he was facing despite the fact he had probably diagnosed himself with them eons ago.

Angrboda carried on a conversation with Loki without any input on his part whatsoever. With every new topic, she explored and addressed his every possible response to it and stance on it. She spoke about things that people (who were working towards too utilitarian a goal to truly care for him) had flung in his direction before with more depth than he could ever have perceived imaginable. She spoke, for a whole hour, about forgiveness and crime and empathy and morals, about the definitions of what she spoke of and the flexibility within them, about debt and about repentance and blame and failure. She covered, or at least she hoped she did, as much as Loki could possibly imagine within a single hour. She talked to him about choices and about trust. She told him that people always had a choice, but that there are some situations that those who claim that it's impossible to be forced into anything have obviously had the good fortune to never be in. she told him about the people who were there for him. She talked about the light at the end of the tunnel. Around 45 minutes into her monologue, she began to feel doubtful, and embarrassed, under his consistent scrutiny, but she persevered. Finally, she told Loki that he had a choice now, and everything she had discussed with him had to be considered when it was made, but when all was said and done that choice had to be made about, and for, no one but himself.

She said, 'and that is all I have to say.'

Loki stared, not for the first time, fixedly and directly at her, deep in thought. When he finally spoke, it was with such rawness and emotion that Angrboda barely recognized that she was listening to the same person who'd sat down with her an hour ago.

Loki told Dr Vidia that in a few minutes he was going to need to, if she pleased, borrow her laptop. Then he told her about the bottle of arsenic he had in the second drawer of his bedside table from the top. After a pause, he continued talking. And although he hid his face in his hands, and his speech became progressively more broken until he was essentially sobbing openly, he didn't stop talking.

Angrboda nodded to say that, yes, he could use her laptop to prevent whichever hosting platform from publishing, presumably at a specified time, his suicide note (which probably contained less 'I'm sorry for what I'm about to do' and more 'here is a list of information I've withheld from various relevant agencies for reasons which are personal, and therefore no longer appropriate'). Then, she closed her eyes in relief, palming her cellphone through her coat pocket only to decide that that could wait for later.

Instead, she waved through her translucent door to indicate to her secretary that her next appointment ought to be cancelled, and returned her attention to Loki. She didn't at all attempt, physically, to comfort him.

She just listened.


	4. January, 2014

Loki didn't show up to the first day of the new semester. His absence was a crippling weight on Thor, who, throughout their one mutual class, could practically feel Loki's empty row searing a hole into the back of his head. Judging him. He'd shown up early specifically in the hopes that he could single Loki out and try to address the business between them, but he'd obviously been naïve in his hopes that anything to do with the elusive brunette could be handled straightforwardly.

Thor told himself to bear in mind that Loki could simply still be on holiday. Or, he could just be skipping this particular class. Somehow, though, that thought just made everything worse.

Thor had been tentatively reviewing their interaction in his head all break, but he still had no idea what'd spooked his classmate like it had the last time they'd talked. Either way, he was determined to resolve the issue no matter what. There was no reason for what'd happened other than that Loki must've drastically misunderstood Thor's intentions. Maybe he'd thought Thor was trying to rob him or something. Realistically, it didn't make sense, and Thor could _tell_ him that, if only Loki wasn't just about as easy to pin down as an epidemic.

Trying to figure out how best to corner Loki had Thor completely oblivious of the lecture, and opting instead to glare at the wall paneling, deep in thought. Tasha had started giving him _looks_, that said 'refurbishment of unaesthetic university property is probably not best done by arson.'

Loki. Loki spent a lot of time in Physics and Computing. Thor was pretty sure he had coursework around now, so if there was any safe bet on where to find him, it'd be there. Thor would have to skip lunch to make the slog to the other department, but if he drove he could probably catch a bite at the Synagogue, and he might even see Loki there, since it was the most logical place for someone to kill time or study between lectures in the science faculty.

And if Thor was near the Synagogue, he could also probably catch up with Tony. They needed to put their heads together and decide which unfortunate soul deserved the honor of coordinating USA's next city-wide pub crawl, and covering the subsequent damage costs.

So heading to science faculties was a win-win scenario.

Even before they were dismissed, Thor was packing up his things, with a disciplined fervor that usually couldn't be attributed to his interactions with things you couldn't drink or hit. He was determined not to start the new year by dancing around a classmate like a child. He'd see him today or he wouldn't, but he'd sort out this thing with Loki one way or another.

* * *

It promised to be a gorgeous day in one of the best parts of what the Guardian called 'England's most scenic campus', he'd just started his favorite topic in all of pure physics, his maths tutor was off with the flu, and Loki couldn't believe his fucking eyes.

Thor Odinson, out of all the infuriating morons on the face of the Earth, was slumped against the wall on the corner of Arago's Way.

The blonde was looking at him with a slight smile and a cocked eyebrow, for all the world as if he owned the alleyway and everything in it, and was also, surely not by coincidence, completely obstructing his path. Loki, who'd been studying in private and hadn't stopped at the same time the other classes had ended, realized with a smack of dread that it had to be him Thor was waiting for.

Loki could have kicked something.

He honestly had no idea what Thor wanted, but he'd allowed their last encounter to drive him up the wall all winter, waking up in cold sweats in the middle of the night. He had an old Impala in the garage (there'd been an influx of the '67 versions recently because of some TV show) in need of attention since last October, and it was still barely a chassis. He shouldn't have let it get to him like it did, but now he could barely remember the last time he'd felt so overrun, and all because of one unfortunate encounter.

He'd even, on Boxing Day, briefly and hysterically, proposed on the phone to Angie that he drop out of school completely and reapply somewhere else next year. It was ridiculous.

He couldn't allow it to continue.

He marched towards Thor like a man with a purpose, determined to shut him down as quickly as possible.

He wasn't sure, though, if he could mask the cold apprehension he felt at seeing Thor again.

At first Loki'd just thought that maybe Thor was trying to ask him out. Maybe he still was. But seeing him standing there, so physically intimidating and so self-assured, brought other fears creeping into the forefront of Loki's mind. Maybe it was something else Thor wanted. Old broadcasts and local newspaper headlines started to flash through his head. Thor was in USA, wasn't he? Most of those guys were international students, New Yorkers. Thor might've seen…

Well, whatever this was about, there was only one way to find out.

Loki drew to a halt with an abruptness that he hoped denoted self-assurance. '_What_,' he began, but was cut off almost immediately.

'Look, Loki, I'm sorry. OK?' Thor paused. He seemed suddenly as if he had no idea what to say. All his coolness had left him as soon as Loki approached. Good.

'I,' Thor continued. 'Whatever happened last time, it… it was my fault. I didn't mean to, you know… wait, wait. Could you just hear me out here?'

Loki gave Thor a drawn out and steady look to imply he was considering the request, which he had no intention of doing. He broke the long silence sharply and with a sneer.

'Look, Thor,' Loki said, in the coldest tone he could muster, forefinger tapping against his crossed arm. 'I don't want to be your friend, or your buddy, or... I have no intention whatsoever of having _any_ sort of relationship with you. I can _absolutely_ guarantee you that whatever it is you think you can give to me, I can get it myself, and on my own time. So. Whatever it is you're selling, I'm not on the market. And I trust you know _exactly_ where to shove your apologies.'

And with that, Loki briefly sidestepped Thor, who wasn't falling for the same trick twice and turned more or less simultaneously with Loki. Damn, so not _that_ easy fooled.

'Loki! _Please.'_

Loki wasn't having it. He jogged deeper into the alleyway, eyes on the exit, ignoring Thor completely. Thor, though, not happy to leave things where they were, lunged forward-

-And grabbed Loki on the shoulder.

Loki reacted purely out of instinct. Given time to consider his actions, however, he probably would've done pretty much the same thing, given Thor's persistent hostility. He could have thought about the consequences, though. He could have pulled his punches.

As it was, Loki grabbed Thor's hand with his own dominant one and twisted as hard as he physically could. At the same time he crouched down, dropping his center of gravity, and swung Thor's legs out from underneath him, using his own upper body to guide his opponent over his head and directly into a brick wall.

Thor had just about enough time to bring up his free arm to defend himself and open his mouth to swear.

As soon as Thor was off of him Loki sprung back to land in a defensive posture. Thor, for his part, just lay stunned on the floor, bringing a hand up to his temple.

For a brief moment, neither of them moved. They were caught, alone, in the alleyway, which stood like a crack in dry earth, movement far away at either end, but secluded. To Loki, it felt for all the world as if he and Thor were the only ones left in it.

Then Loki registered what exactly he had just done.

He clapped both hands to his face with a cry and dropped to the floor, trying to reach for Thor's face to see if he was bleeding, and maybe take his pulse. Or something. He didn't know. His hands were trembling. He was babbling incoherently, wanting to apologize as many times as he could but with only one mouth to do it. His horror was practically asphyxiating him.

Thor was just staring at his left arm as if what he was seeing did not compute with him. 'I think you broke my hand' he murmured, very softly. The tone he spoke with implied he wasn't sure at all, and that it could very possibly be his leg, or his phone, that was broken.

Loki couldn't breathe. Thor had a possible broken wrist, probable concussion. Because of him. He still could barely get words out. He knelt, transfixed, over Thor, not knowing where to put his hands, tears in his eyes. 'I, Thor,' he tried. 'I… Oh God, I-'

'It's fine, Loki. It's OK. Look at me. It's OK.'

Thor took a deep breath and tried to push himself up, failing miserably just as Loki went to stop him and dropping to the ground again. He groaned and touched his head with uncertainty, taking deep breaths. 'No,' he said, 'I'm fine, I really… I just… need a minute.'

'Oh, my God, Thor, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Don't try to get up. Can… can you hear me?'

Thor nodded, now grimacing in pain.

'Do you remember what just happened? You didn't black out?'

Another nod.

'OK, and…' Loki, still shaking with adrenaline, scrutinized Thor's eyes to confirm they were still focused. OK. He needed to think. He needed to pull himself together. He needed to _not _throw up on Thor right now. 'I need you to… keep… talking to me,' he said. As he said it, Loki tugged off his rucksack and pullover, rummaging through the bag to find a water bottle, which he emptied almost entirely onto the cloth. He really needed ice. In fact, he had no idea whether wet cloth would actually make a head wound worse and stop blood from clotting. Thor, though, he noticed, was not bleeding, and so Loki put the wet sleeve in Thor's hand, guiding it onto his head.

He leaned back to glance up and down the alley briefly, ran his hands through his hair and sighed deeply. He mentally recited every curse word he'd ever learned, some twice for good measure. Then he looked back at Thor and swallowed.

'I need to get you to a hospital. You shouldn't move much, but… do you think you could stand? If I helped?' Loki didn't know if Thor should ride a bike right now, but they didn't really have many options.

Thor's facial expression reached a new level of confusion as he studied Loki. Then he turned his head away and mumbled incoherently into the floor.

What? 'What?'

'I said,' Thor repeated, raising his voice, 'you can drive stick shift, right?'

Without another word, Thor dropped the ruined pullover. At first Loki thought he was about to be hit, but then Thor, sitting up, reached into his back jean pocket, bringing out a keychain and handing it voluntarily to Loki. Loki accepted it with only a moment's consideration, tucking it away.

It bore the brand of another Chevy, he was surprised to see.

'Allis' was all Loki was told by way of explanation. It was probably out of discomfort and not some attempt at mysticism that Thor was being so vague, but Loki cottoned on anyways. Thor's car was on Allis Street, just around the corner.

Loki put one arm through the straps of both of their bags and crouched down again, apologizing all the way, maneuvering the blonde so that as much of his considerable weight as possible was over Loki's shoulder.

They stood together, stumbling towards the end of the cobbled alleyway. Loki prompted Thor to recount the start of the day to him, so that he could tell there was no slurring in Thor's speech, and Thor immediately mentioned Loki's absence, and his subsequent guilt. Loki's own guilt, were it possible, became even worse at that, and he tried as gently as possible to hurry them on. It was slow going, though; Thor winced with every sharp motion.

When they were hit by the daylight that flooded the opening of Arago's way onto Allis Street, Loki recognized Thor's car immediately. The minor road was, due to the time and location, flooded with so many illegally parked student vehicles that they were practically stacked on top of each other in places. Every smooth surface in sight reflected blinding rays of sun. But to Loki, the Chevy stood out like a diamond in mud.

It was a Corvette.

For a moment he stopped, dazed, before realizing his priorities ought to be elsewhere. He repositioned Thor, who was, on autopilot, still quietly listing what he'd had for breakfast, and began to maneuver their way towards the car.

Loki managed to get the convertible's passenger door open and Thor through it before he hopped directly into the driver's seat, careful not to get his feet on the upholstery. He fiddled briefly with the ignition and began to ease them out of the cramped space; Thor just sighed and leaned back in his seat, the filthy pullover still against the side of his head.

Loki felt physically ill looking at Thor and being reminded of what he'd done. Though he was forced to reverse onto the main road, he kept checking Thor, interrupting him to choke out more apologies and ask if he was alright. _Of course he isn't_, Loki's guilty conscious sneered at him, _you just broke his wrist_.

Honestly, Loki couldn't decide whether he was more terrified of what'd happened to Thor or what might happen to the car with Loki behind its wheel. He was shocked he'd been trusted with it at all.

'Really,' Thor assured him, finally dropping the pullover. 'I'm fine now. It's OK. I- thank you.'

'_Thank_ you?' Loki asked, practically slamming on the brakes and locking the wheel to the left. 'What… I…'

'Thanks for not leaving me there. I thought… I thought you might.'

Loki just stared at him. 'I wouldn't,' he tried to say, but… how could Thor know that? It wouldn't be any worse than anything else he'd done to him. In fact, leaving Thor alone in that alley would probably have been the kindest thing Loki did to him all day.

Thor just should his head. 'No. I know you wouldn't. I think. But you could have. And maybe you should've, too, the way I've… been.' He paused. 'But you didn't. So… thank you.'

Loki blinked at Thor. Then he sighed and gripped the bridge of his nose. He was finally beginning to calm down. He gave Thor one more considerate look, and then reversed around the corner of the main road, quickly changing into 1st and taking the opportunity he'd been waiting for to merge with the traffic.

* * *

The longer Loki drove, the more deeply afraid he became. He realized he was gripping the Chevy's wheel like a lifeline. Thor was going to be fine; Loki was considering telling him he could stop talking, but he didn't think he could deal with the ensuing silence (Thor was now discussing exchange rates in Thailand with an avid interest).

The thing was: Loki was absolutely fucked. He could not afford another mark on his ledger. Not with his history. He was painfully aware how exactly this would look to any judging body.

Loki hoped he could maybe wrangle some sort of pity out of Thor, who already seemed fairly at ease with everything, or make a deal with him, but he doubted it would be possible. After all, Loki'd pretty much just attacked him in broad daylight. No, he _had _done that. Anyways, it wasn't like Thor could realize what the extent of the consequences of his understandable wish for retribution would be for Loki.

Loki realized that the longer he waited the worse this would be. So he gently cleared his throat, wringing his hands on the wheel, and told Thor that if he could and if he wanted to he could go into Loki's bag and get his phone, which had Loki's lawyer's number on it.

It took Thor a moment to realize what was being said to him, and then he gasped sharply, shaking his head so hard it obviously hurt, and then groaned in regret. When he'd collected himself again, he said quietly, 'I don't- I don't want to take you to court, Loki.'

'What? But you- but I-'

'It was an accident,' Thor told him, determinedly, as if that was all that needed to be said.

'It was _not_ an accident. How can you just write off… how will you pay for this? I mean, I can-'

'Loki. There's this great new thing called medical insurance. You should try it.'

Loki gave Thor a withering glance and then returned his eyes to the road. The humor might have been well intentioned, but Loki was still too wired to even pretend to react to it right now. He wanted nothing more than to grab at the lifeline Thor was dangling in front of him, but he also couldn't believe he was getting off the hook so easily.

'I'm so sorry, Thor,' he murmured. He couldn't think of anything else to say.

'It's alright. Really, it's alright.' There was another heavy pause. 'If anything,' Thor continued, '_I_ should be sorry.'

_'What?_'

'You were defending yourself. I shouldn't've grabbed you like that. I shouldn't've been here at all,' Thor explained, calm and morose. 'You were obviously… uncomfortable with my company. I was just, I wanted… I didn't want to leave things like we did. But I was stupid not to be able to tell that the last thing you wanted was to see me. I shouldn't have put you in a position where you were… you felt so scared, you had to react like that. It wasn't your fault, Loki,' Thor explained, deadly serious. 'It was mine.'

Loki had no idea how to respond to that.

'Can we just agree', Thor asked, 'to put all this behind us? And admit that it all probably couldn't have gone any worse? And also, maybe get me some paracetamol?'

Loki just stared straight ahead, and gave a short nod. He wiped his eyes, which, shit, had been tearing up on and off for the last ten minutes. He could probably blame it on the convertible. Hopefully.

For a while – for most of the short journey - they drove in silence. Now that his immediate future was secure again, Loki actually found himself trying not to smile at the ridiculousness of the situation. It was true; it couldn't have gone any worse. Then they locked eyes and Thor grinned slightly. Loki returned it only out of courtesy.

And then Thor, damn him, with the most _ridiculous _grin on his face, _continued to talk about the exchange rate in Bangkok, _like there was nothing he was more fascinated by_._ Loki couldn't believe him. He couldn't believe any of this, actually, and the more he thought about it, the funnier it became. It had been a horrible day. But despite it all, Loki started to laugh.

He giggled like an idiot, tears in his eyes, and Thor laughed too. It didn't last very long, but Loki couldn't remember the last time he had genuinely laughed. He didn't know how, or why, _anything_ that had just happened could be construed as funny, but something about Thor just made him feel like everything was going to be OK.

'Oh, man,' Thor said, sobering up as they pulled into the hospital parking lot. 'Today has been…'

'Educational?' Loki immediately regretted having opened his mouth, and winced. But Thor didn't seem to care at all.

In fact, he just grinned again, and said with mock condescension, 'Loki? That is _exactly _what I was going to say.'

* * *

At the A&E reception, Loki lied fluently and pretty drastically about Thor's symptoms. Thor raised his eyebrows in question but wisely shut his mouth, knowing he'd probably be enlightened sooner or later.

Loki explained as he guided Thor to two free seats that hospital staff have a system of allocating new inpatients a color to reflect the severity of their injury, and they'd just effectively bypassed a few hours of waiting time. Not that it mattered; they'd both miss their PM classes. Loki assured Thor that he'd had the afternoon off anyways.

As they waited, they started to chat. Thor could barely believe it. A casual conversation, with Loki. As if everything was completely normal. As if they were waiting for class to start together.

The Loki Thor was looking at now, he realized, was a completely different person than the one he'd known a day ago. Thor'd tried as hard as he could in the car to get Loki, who was obviously in a much worse state about the whole I-just-threw-you-into-a-wall thing than Thor himself was, to calm down, and he was pretty sure he'd done alright. At first Thor had thought maybe Loki was just trying to appease him out of fear, but now he seemed to be genuinely pacified.

Loki's expression of debilitating guilt was almost entirely gone. He was sitting up straighter.

And he was cracking jokes. Loki had an intense and sophisticated wit that'd be quite ruthless with you if you weren't careful. And despite his almost duplicitous nature, he could be very upfront. Thor felt as if he could trust him. Thor _could _trust him; he'd seen how Loki'd reacted after he'd hurt him.

The golden opportunity to see Loki coming out of his shell made the afternoon almost worth it, quite frankly. Thor was so used to getting close to people, only to see that they were dull or insincere. But he felt like he could lose _days _in Loki's company if he wasn't focusing. All through the hour Thor had to wait, they conversed quietly, Loki becoming more and more confident as he learned that Thor really wasn't upset with him. Which he wasn't. Thor couldn't bring himself to be angry at all.

Then Loki paused as if he'd just realized something, closed up again and turned away. 'Thor,' he asked, cautiously, 'what… what are you going to tell them? When you get in there?'

Thor gave a low hum and squinted his eyes in consideration. He hadn't thought about that. 'Not the truth,' he said. Loki didn't even try to mask his relief. 'I guess… my hand got caught in a bus door? Then I fell and hit my head on the pavement? And you were there, so…'

'You caught a bus.'

'Yes.'

'To your car. And then you broke your wrist trying to get off.'

Thor opened his mouth and then closed it again. 'Well, it's possible. I could have parked, gone looking for somewhere to eat, and then caught the bus back. And you were there by coincidence. Coming from the labs. Um, and you recognized me, and decided to help, out of the goodness of your heart.'

'Hm. And I take it it was out of _concern_ for you that I didn't get any registration number, or witness statements, or try to stop the bus. How strange, that someone would just drive off, after so severely injuring a passenger. Stranger still that an entire busy street would just _allow_ it.

'It was… in… the heat of the moment?' Thor tried, pathetically.

Loki gave him an extremely disappointed frown, and then immediately made a blank face, looking over Thor's shoulder, where a very petite lady with sharp clothes was now standing, tapping her foot.

She glanced at her clipboard. 'Thor… odd… Odinson? Would you come with me?'

Thor went to stand, and Loki tried to stop him, but then, resigned, let go and sat down again, because he couldn't come up with anything better than Thor's unbelievable story.

Then Loki tried to follow them too, but it wasn't allowed, so he stood around uncertainly instead. Thor thought he'd done too much today anyways. Loki looked ready to collapse.

'It's OK,' Thor told him, one last time. 'I guess… I'll see you in class tomorrow?'

Thor's heart dropped when Loki shook his head. But the brunette just smirked at him. 'No,' he said, 'I'll see you when you get out. Unless you want to try your luck driving home one-handed?'

Thor beamed like an idiot. Loki looked like he honestly couldn't understand how Thor could be so genuinely grateful to him after all he'd done, and he opened his mouth to say something (probably along those lines) but then stopped.

He simply gave Thor a solemn nod, which Thor returned before ambling away after the doctor.

Behind him, Loki sat down again, crossed his legs and waited.


	5. January, 2014 II

Loki was in the same place when Thor got out. He sat propped up in the plastic chair like it was made of gold, by far the most elegant in the ensemble of nervous parents and ailing patients-to-be, flicking absent-mindedly at his iPhone's screen to pass the time. Over his shoulders he had the coat Thor had lent him earlier when he'd lost his pullover, which was now sitting in an ASDA bag by his feet.

Thor was admittedly a little surprised that he hadn't booked it when he had the chance.

The day was getting on and the atmosphere in the waiting room had a cool finality to it; the natural light flooding in through the floor length windows was grey and constant. There was a bustle at one end. Thor was pretty sure somebody'd been stabbed.

Thor walked straight towards Loki, who noticed and reacted to him faster than Thor would've liked. Loki's face tended to close up when he was conscious of others' attention on him.

It closed up even tighter when, standing to meet him, Loki first saw the cast clamped around Thor's left wrist. He set his jaw and nodded slightly, guilt returning to his demeanor.

'It's not so bad,' Thor explained as he filled out insurance forms at the front desk.

'I'm right-handed. And it gives me an excuse to skip training for a while. Also…,' he nodded at the receptionist as they walked away, 'I think they bought my… y'know… bus story.'

Loki had been acting fairly impassive since Thor had returned, but at this, he hesitated to flash Thor his trademark smirk, cocked eyebrow included. He didn't say anything, but he also didn't have to. Thor knew exactly what Loki's opinion of his little tale was.

Thor just grinned and rolled his eyes, embarrassed. 'OK, OK,' he said. 'Let's get out of here.'

* * *

Loki had taken the liberty of parking the corvette in the most far-removed and unobtrusive place he could find within the hospital parking lot. This was great, Thor thought, in terms of his being protective of the car, but not so great when the hike to it was probably longer than the drive home would be.

Loki occupied him with hesitant inquiries about what the doctor had said ('hairline fracture, mild concussion, no, don't bother your GP about it') as he navigated them both to the back of the basement floor. When they reached the convertible Thor saw that Loki must've returned to it at one point to raise the roof, but seeing as it was getting cold again, they didn't bother with the hassle of forcing it down for the journey.

The pair slid into the car in unison and Loki put it in gear immediately.

'So,' they both said at the same time. Thor raised his eyebrows and tried not to grin again. 'I,' they both said. 'You-'

Exasperated, Loki took a deep breath and put up his hand. 'I'm going to drive you home.' Thor kept his mouth shut. Loki made sure no one was headed their way and began to pull out. 'Regrettably,' he continued, 'this model didn't come with a satnav built in, so we'll have to use my phone. If you could be so kind-'

'I actually know how to get back to my place from here,' Thor explained. 'Medic friends and all that. The hospital's University run.' Loki nodded.

'Anyways, Loki. Thanks for the offer, but are you going to be alright, getting back on your own? I don't live in halls. I mean, I'm in USA, and I do live right next to the halls. But do you know that area? Can you get home from there? Which college are you in, by the way?'

'I'll be fine on my own. I can walk to the Synagogue from the USA halls. I left my bike there earlier, so I need to pick it up, and then I can just ride it home.'

'OK. Thanks again, I guess.'

Loki just nodded.

There was a just barely comfortable silence in the car. Loki gazed, stalwart, at the road ahead, while Thor drummed his good fingers on his thigh. He picked at the drying cast. Then he glanced at the volume dial on the radio.

'You don't mind, if I-' Thor gestured at the knob.

Loki shook his head, not shifting his gaze. He looked almost determined to not engage in conversation. 'Go ahead.'

* * *

Thor saw to it that they made small talk all the way home.

Loki seemed a lot more somber now than before. Still a little on edge, and more than a bit morose. Perhaps the mellowness was a good thing. All the nervous energy was gone from him, at least.

Thor himself was running out of steam. He just wanted to get home.

On the other hand, it couldn't be denied that Loki was a good conversationalist no matter what mood he was in. It was surprising, really, that for someone who was so unobtrusively quiet most of the time, he actually had so many quips on hand.

They discussed the new term, and (obviously, this was Britain) the weather, and the fact that Loki was a grift (and, oh, what was that like? Did he have a studio apartment?). It was uncovered that Thor's favorite album was Mothership by Led Zeppelin, but he had a good ear for new music too, and could appreciate the indie sort of stuff Loki seemed to like. Yes, Loki'd heard the CHVRCHES song that came on the radio too, Loki had their poster. No, Thor didn't know Passion Pit. Apparently that was a shame. Either way, they both could agree that Hendrix was a god, if grudgingly on Loki's part.

_Thank goodness, _Thor thought.

Loki parked the car swiftly, more used to maneuvering it by now, and handed Thor the keys as they walked together towards the foyer of his apartment building. Once he was in, Thor turned to face Loki over the threshold, mustering up the courage to say what he wanted to say next. Loki, similarly, looked like he was stumbling to choose the right words.

Loki just ended up trying to apologize again.

'Forget about it,' Thor told him. 'Honestly, Loki, just… forget it. Look.' He paused. 'Um…'

Thor covered his eyes with his right hand and sighed in frustration, then pulled it away to gesture outwards in an almost placating motion as he spoke. 'I don't… obviously the _last_ thing I want to do is pressure you, but, the thing is… it's been a long day, and, I mean it's the evening now, you wasted your whole day, and in my flat I have all this food… and it's going to go off, and, um, my roommates, they're out of town on this… anyways, it doesn't matter. But, well, heh, if you really want to make things up to me…' he glanced up at Loki, who was staring right at him, completely unamused by the lame attempt at humor. Loki looked as if he absolutely couldn't believe what he was hearing. Thor just decided to finish it off and stop embarrassing himself. 'Maybe,' he said, 'you would consider coming upstairs for a bit? Having a bite to eat, and a rest, and letting me pay you back?'

* * *

Loki took a very long time to respond.

Thor certainly had a lot of nerve to him. Loki couldn't believe he was asking something like this after what had literally just happened.

Loki also couldn't remember the last time he had willingly acquiesced to an invitation to enter another person's living space. And even then he would have done it armed in some way, physically or psychologically, and for some sort of business purpose. Never… social.

On the other hand, Loki did owe Thor, a lot. And Thor seemed to be acting genuinely, and out of kindness.

The thing was, as stupid as it may be given his previous irrational fear of him, Loki really did trust Thor. Relative to everyone else in his life, at least.

And he was tired of being alone all the time. In class, at home. He deserved a change.

Call it a leap of faith.

Thor was blushing deeply now, and he dipped his head, guilty. 'I'm sorry. That was… incredibly bullheaded of me. I'll just… I'll just go. Goodnight, Loki.'

'Wait,' Loki said, his voice catching Thor as he turned. He looked to the side. 'Something to eat sounds good. Just a bite.'

Thor's handsome face, so rarely schooled into expressionlessness, lit up again, in that all-encompassing beam. He stepped aside to allow Loki into the building and guided them through towards the elevator. After he'd manually opened the lift door, Thor took Loki's coat.

It was Thor's anyways.

* * *

Thor's apartment was lovely but sloppy. Warmly lit, crammed full of odds and ends, but not claustrophobic. Loki could have predicted all this, though. Thor was obviously not one for neatness, and it was apparent immediately that his roommates were all of a similarly untidy disposition. Through the kitchen door he could see timetables and schemes pinned to walls and the fridge door that indicated some attempt at routine, but obviously, whatever they had to say was generally ignored.

The apartment was large (which made sense, given that it had so many occupants), and it sported the energetic lived-in feel that Loki had always failed to achieve in his own flat. Probably because he was trying too hard. The front hall extended all the way to the bedrooms at the back, with a broken shoe rack and walk-in coat cupboard where Loki left his things. From the entrance, the first room to the right was the kitchen; after that came a toilet, and on the left there was a very large living space which lead through to a dining room at the back.

As he picked his way through the clutter on the floor to follow Thor, who was trying to motion him into the kitchen and deal with some of the mess at the same time, Loki tried to remember the names of Thor's friends.

'Do you flatshare with Anthony Stark?' he asked, leafing through some schematics that'd been left carelessly on a countertop. Stark was famous in the engineering department for his mechanical ingenuity, among other things. Doubtless he'd one day follow his mogul father into the weapons industry.

'Yep,' said Thor, who had his nose in a crockery cupboard. 'And Steve Rogers. Clint and Tash – sorry, that's Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff – they don't actually live here but they're always around. Oh, and of course there's Bruce Banner, he's Tony's friend and a bit of a recluse. Maybe you know him, he's a scientist too. Medicine, I think.'

'Medical physics, actually,' Loki corrected, but he wasn't really paying attention any more. He'd become distracted by the assortment of rich aperitifs, tarts and pastries scattered around the room's available horizontal surfaces. Thor hadn't been kidding when he said he had food to spare. Someone must've thrown a very expensive party and overestimated the catering requirements. That had to be it, actually – there were three mostly empty tequila bottles in the trash, and there'd been more booze out in the hall.

Thor hummed in thought and handed Loki a plate and cutlery, turning back to the fridge. 'Help yourself,' he said. 'Drink?'

Loki stiffened and eyed the fridge's beer rack. He didn't drink. He never had. He didn't like the vulnerability that he knew came with it, or the way alcohol could make certain people behave. On the other hand, he wasn't sure whether he was socially obligated to accept. Sitting around drinking beer to pass the time seemed to be something of a tradition for male college students. 'I prefer water,' he commented, hesitantly.

Thor must've noticed Loki's reaction because he tactically replaced the bottle he'd picked up for himself and filled up two glasses at the tap. Then he made himself comfortable at the small table that fed into the countertop and munched on a pain au chocolat, eyeing Loki as he skulked his way around the room like an inquisitive cat.

Loki found it very difficult to just take food from a stranger. Well, almost stranger. Despite Thor's reassurance, he felt as if he was abusing some serious boundaries, even through his presence in Thor's home. He certainly wouldn't have invited Thor back to his place, or let him take his food.

In the end Loki resolved to have a bit of everything that'd already been partially eaten, eager to try it all but not wanting to start a new dish.

He wondered out loud if Thor wouldn't mind him having a macaroon.

'Honestly, Loki, help yourself. It's not even mine, it's all Tony's, and he's… well, he's loaded. He probably doesn't even remember it's here.'

Loki nodded.

'By the way,' Thor continued, completely out of the blue, 'what do you think of that car? The Chevy, I mean.'

Loki looked up in surprise. Then he finally started to eat, opting to lean against the countertop instead of sitting next to Thor. Thor spun on his bar stool to face him, mimicking him by holding his plate (which was really just a stolen saucer) above his lap.

Loki chewed on a bit of quiche as he considered the question.

He didn't know if Thor wanted to be reassured that his cool old car was indeed cool, and old, and probably a pussy magnet, or if he wanted the real answer. It smarted a bit that Thor, who was probably completely oblivious of what he had, was fishing for compliments from Loki, who'd actually spent the last 5 months of his life trying to negotiate with a shitty vendor who wouldn't get back to him over a 67 Chevrolet corvette just like Thor's.

The other thing was that the car had been almost criminally neglected. It was _abuse_. Almost every internal component had at one point been torn out and replaced with something newer and cheaper; Loki had been able to tell almost the moment he'd sat behind the wheel. Practically the only part that was still original was the framework, and it was such a shame, because, in Loki's opinion, the quality of those cars had gone downhill from the release of the new model in 1968. If only it had been allowed to stay as perfect as it'd originally been. But still… oh, the things Loki could do with that car. Maybe if he undersold it drastically enough he could convince Thor to let him work on it.

But that was implausible and improbable. Besides, Thor didn't deserve to be manipulated by Loki, after what he, Thor, had done for him. Thor's car was Thor's car, and Loki wouldn't interfere.

'It's a lovely model,' Loki commented in the end, staying neutral. 'But it's… it's not the original engine, you know.'

Thor laughed out loud. 'You can say it, Loki. It's a piece of shit.'

Loki was taken by surprise. 'Well, I wouldn't say…'

Thor just raised an eyebrow at him. Loki glanced to the side, nervously scratched his ear and shrugged. 'Yeah,' he agreed eventually, smiling slightly. 'It sort of is.'

Thor put his saucer away and folded his arms. 'It was my old man's, you see. God knows what he did with it. Anyways, the thing is, it's not worth much to me. Or, as I should put it, it'd be better looked after in someone else's hands. The car _is_ important to me, but… if it were in the hands of someone who was really dedicated, and who really cared, don't you think? I think some really great things could be done with that car. I just wouldn't know the place to start.'

_Don't say anything_, Loki thought, stuffing his mouth full. _Don't you say a single thing. You've given Thor absolutely no reason to trust you. You don't know him. He doesn't want to let you have that car. He obviously already has plans for it. So just be quiet._

'So,' Thor continued, smiling, 'I've been trying to sell it.'

Loki had to physically bite his lip to keep himself from saying anything.

Thor grinned. 'To you.'

Loki choked on his quiche.

It took him a few moments to process what he'd just heard. He put down his plate and leaned forward, shocked. 'What?'

Was this a joke?

'For a few months now,' Thor finished. Then he leaned back with a shit-eating grin on his face.

_Oh my God_, Loki thought.

_Oh my God. The- the thing with the bus. Thor wanting to see me earlier today. All this time…_

All this time. Thor had been trying to sell Loki his fucking car.

Loki couldn't believe it. He had to be the biggest moron on the face of the Earth.

He was still leaning forward, mouth open like an idiot.

'But,' he eventually stuttered, 'but… but how-'

'Freya told me. Wait, back up. That sounds weird. She's a family friend, you see. And when I asked if she knew anyone… trustworthy… looking for a mistreated 67 'vette at a really low price, she said you'd been moving heaven and earth trying to find one, at a low price, for god knows how long, and I thought, "oh, that guy's in my lit class! It must be fate."'

'And then… and then you tried to ask me, and I…'

Loki felt a deep coldness settle upon him. He shook his head. He couldn't even meet Thor's eyes. 'God, Thor, I'm so sorry.'

'Loki. Seriously. Forget it. It's done.'

They both paused for a bit. Thor decided to take the opportunity to shovel more food into his mouth before talking again. 'Well, anyways, there you have it. It's not an L88, but-'

'Christ alive! Thor! Do you know _anything_ about cars? Of _course_ it's not- I- I'd have to be a millionaire!' Loki flung out his hands in exasperation.

Thor just grinned again. 'Well, are you interested?' he asked.

Loki couldn't believe that someone so painfully oblivious to the situation he was dealing with could go into it this casually. Thor seemed completely unperturbed about the whole thing. He actually seemed to be enjoying himself at Loki's expense. As if it was Loki who ought be embarrassed in these circumstances.

Loki scowled at Thor, then angrily helped himself to more pastry. He chewed in silence for a while, trying to make sense of the situation.

Then he thought, _oh, what the Hell_.

Loki swallowed. 'What's your asking price?'

'…12?'

Loki stared at him. 'Twelve thousand pounds?'

'Oh, no, sorry, I'm thinking in American. Dollars.'

Loki just kept staring.

He couldn't believe it. He literally couldn't believe his ears. Thor was insane. He had to be. That concussion was more serious than they'd thought.

Loki shook his head, numbly.

'But, listen. I know what you're thinking,' Thor said. 'But I'm not. I'm not crazy. The money… the money's just to pay back my father.' Oh, so Thor's father wasn't actually dead. That saved Loki from what would've been some pretty awkward condolences.

Thor continued. 'If I could, I'd give it to you for free. I love that car, I really do. And Freya's shown me what you've done, at the shop.

'As cheesy as it sounds, I just want to see that car reach its potential. It's been in the family for years. It has sentimental value. But it's just been rotting away. And it's not worth it to me to invest so much into it, to renovate it. But there are people… like you… who I know are willing to put in the effort, and have the time and resources to do it. So, yeah. If you like that price - and you wouldn't mind me maybe coming down to see how things are going, and, I don't know, taking pictures, maybe lovingly caressing the varnish or whatever – I can have it up in the garage by next weekend.'

* * *

Well.

Loki didn't agree immediately. They argued quietly for a while as the streets outside got darker, laying out parameters and double, triple checking things (this was mostly Loki), but eventually, Loki said that yes, please, he would like to buy Thor's car.

There were a few cons to the decision. Freya's was a safe haven to Loki. He'd have to accept Thor coming in to his personal space, and that unsettled him deeply. Thor, though, was very cautious and respectful about it all. He was obviously making a conscious effort not to be obnoxious towards Loki, having learned through trial and error what that would result in.

And in the end, the decision was worth it.

Afterwards, Loki finished his snack, which had by now turned into dinner, and insisted that he really must be off. They exchanged numbers (well, Thor got one of Loki's several numbers). At the door, Thor confessed that Freya had invited him to come up and watch a race next weekend, and that he'd love to come but apparently Loki was competing and so he wouldn't if Loki didn't want him to. Loki considered it for a while, but said it would actually be alright. He even suggested that they drive to Vanir motors together in Thor's car that weekend, as Thor wouldn't be able to get there himself, it was an hour out of town, and the racetrack was nearby.

Loki was feeling amiable.

Well, it was his fault that Thor would have the time to spare that weekend anyways.

Then Thor invited Loki to a party. Loki declined politely but immediately. 'I thought those things were only for people in USA,' he pointed out as an afterthought.

'They are,' Thor replied. 'But they let you smuggle in friends.'

'Right,' Loki nodded, and then he bid Thor good night.

* * *

When Loki got home, he shut the door to his flat and leaned his whole body against it. Despite himself, he started to smile. He felt calm and flushed at the same time; it was peculiar. He just couldn't get Thor's passing remark out of his mind. _They let you smuggle in friends._

Now that he was alone in his flat, Loki could forget about the disastrous day he'd had, and all the niggling little things he had to take care of. He forgot about everything at all. Instead, he plugged his iPod into the sound system, turned it all the way up, and danced through every room in the empty apartment, not caring who saw or heard, watering his plants as he went.

_I have a car_, Loki thought. _I have _the _car._

_And, apparently, a friend._


	6. January, 2014 III

'That's not what I said. I never said that.'

'A _friend_, Loki! Your very first! _Finally_ I can arrange a _playdate_ for you.'

'I said he told _me_-'

'I'm so excited. I'm so happy. I need to meet his parents before you visit his house, though.'

'Listen, he's a, he's a _peer_. I have plenty of friends, but-'

'Oh? This is new. Last time-'

'-Thor is someone my _own_ age, who, shut up, who I can, can share notes and things with. And I can network! He's popular, you know, he has friends, maybe I can-'

'OK, OK. I'm sorry. I can be serious. One quick question though. Would you describe yourself as fun and quirky, or more the kind and quiet type? For your OkCupid profile, which I'm setting up right now. And then it's going to be facebook, speaking of networking. Welcome to the social sphere.'

Loki closed his eyes as if to send out a silent prayer for strength. What made is worse was that it was actually something she would do to pass the time.

Stopped at a red light and with his cellphone clamped between his cheek and the inside of his helmet, he could flex both palms around the handlebars in front of him, taking out his frustration through his grip on the bike instead of by groaning out loud.

'You're not making me an OkCupid profile.'

'I really am. I've dedicated myself to it entirely,' said Angie. 'You want to make a bet?'

'Oh! Seriously?' Loki grinned as he took off again, though no one could see it. He turned his head as if to look at the person sitting next to him. 'You want to make a bet with _me_? Honestly?'

'Absolutely, because, as you know, I am always nothing but sincere. I'll bet you-'

'That worthless porcelain fairy your receptionist gave last November?' There was no reply. 'Thats was what you were going to say, wasn't it? Shame on you, trying to fob off a heartfelt gift like that.' Loki practically purred with contentment. 'So predictable, Angie. Done. Now. I could do some serious elaboration here, but the crux of it is: you're on your phone, talking to me using the microphone on your headphones in favour of speaking into the phone directly. A five year old could tell the difference between the sound quality. The reason that you're on your phone, using the screen, but not using a computer is that you're actually playing Candy Crush Saga, because the eloquence and skills your sophisticated, sheltered upbringing gave you came at the cost of a lifestyle too oppressive for a child.'

'Oho, Mr Psychoanalysis! Such venom! You're down two stars in my patient of the month stakes.'

'But up one fairy figurine,' Loki countered, logically. 'I'll take it as a win. And I'm not your patient any more.'

Angie didn't reply for a while, and when she did, it was with a surprising sincerity. Although it didn't last long. 'I know. Sorry. I do consider myself to be your friend, Loki. Well, I guess that'd be your _other_ friend now.'

'Shut up.'

'Honestly though, I realize this Thor thing's been troubling you, and it's great you two reconciled, but… I know that's not why you called me. What's making you so nervous?'

Loki blinked and stared out at the road ahead of him. he hadn't been expecting that. He knew Angrboda was astute, but… was he making it that obvious?

Then again, it was only fair that if her took her on in his own field, he should expect her to do the same to him, and with a similar ease.

He didn't know what to say to make her change the topic again. And a small part of him also wanted to confide in her.

He _was_ nervous.

Things would have been bad enough if it had only been the case that today was his first actual race, in a car he had little experience in. But there was something else. Two things, in fact.

The first was that it'd emerged that Thor didn't at all realize what he'd signed up for today. Loki'd assumed that Freya had already taken care of that, but no, apparently it had slipped her mind somehow. So Loki was going to have to do some serious explaining in a few minutes.

The second thing was this:

He'd slept better last week than he had in living memory, despite his anxiety about the race. In fact, Loki had spent almost the entire week dreaming about flying. But on Thursday night, old habits had had him trawling through ownership records and forum interactions and local news sights and he'd found something that made his stomach flip – exactly what he'd been looking for.

It wouldn't have been hard for him either way, but there'd been no attempt to conceal it, so it caught his attention almost immediately.

Today's other driver was a man called Michael Howard, and it'd become apparent to Loki that he had connections with a reasonably wealthy ex-banker called Letitia Lane. Further investigation revealed that Howard was, as Loki'd suspected, a relative of Lane's – her nephew in law – and therefore most likely on the elder woman's payroll.

All of this would be of no consequence whatsoever. Was Loki not going to be sitting in a few hours behind the wheel of Letitia Lane's 2008 Nissan 370Z.

The pair's objective wasn't so complex. Rookie driver, plus a mediocre car, meant higher chances for Howard. They'd obviously surmised that Loki hadn't a chance, which was probably more or less accurate, and hoped to get nothing more out of the interaction than to win what'd been payed for the renovation back in prize money. This is what Freya had said, and Loki agreed. It didn't actually change anything for him at all, but it certainly wasn't reassuring to know how convinced they were of his incompetence.

Loki had enough faith in himself, though, that he wouldn't let it phase him. After all, if anyone could find the silver lining in a horrid situation, it was him. _So they're kicking back and waiting to watch you fail? Let their false confidence be their hubris._

But Loki'd gone back to the track yet again on Friday, considering the surface quality and the Nissan's terrible tire roar, which they'd done all they could to minimize by altering the car's suspension. He thought about how it handled and how Howard's car handled in comparison (better), and about every single thing that could go wrong on Saturday. Even in class he made notes on how the going would be affected by weather condition. He couldn't help himself.

He was hideously nervous.

'Loki?' Angie was asking him. 'That was a big pause. Are you with me?'

Loki blinked and shook his head. He was drawing up outside of Thor's apartment, right on time. He'd barely even realized he'd arrived, or that Angie was still on the line. _Oops._

'I'm fine,' he muttered, 'and I need to go. Sorry-'

'You've arrived? …Or am I just getting the cold shoulder? Where are you?'

'Thor's.'

Loki parked, haphazardly but out of the way, and walked onto the sidewalk. He really wanted this conversation to end. Call it a mixture of guilt and frustration.

'… He's quite important to you, isn't he? Just-'

'Angie-'

'Just promise me you're not about to do something stupid, Loki. Or illegal. God knows I-'

'You know I don't do "stupid," Angie,' Loki said, and hung up the phone.

* * *

Thor was waiting for Loki on the doorstep, leaning against a pillar and twirling the Chevrolet's keys over and under his good hand. 'Ready to go?' he asked.

Loki frowned and ground his teeth silently. He glanced around, tapping his forefinger on his thigh in agitation, and then sighed. 'Actually,' he said, 'that depends. Can you keep a secret?'

* * *

Loki drove Thor East into the countryside with the roof down. Every new town they drove through was washed in spring sunlight, and Thor marveled at the waves playing across the crop fields, at the fjords and the open expanses that came as suburbia fell away. It'd been so long since he'd been outside of a city, or not travelling between two of them in a train.

Today was the sort of day that just made you want to stand at the center of it for as long as you lived, basking. Forgetting everything.

Except…

Street racing.

He shouldn't be surprised. Not that he really minded – in fact the prospect was quite exciting – but still, it wasn't quite how he'd been expecting to spend the day.

It wasn't his deal. Thor had spent a lot of his childhood in and out of police stations, in fact, so now... he felt horribly out of place.

He wondered if he should even be here at all. The nervous, almost hysterical energy that'd driven the beginning of their... tentatively, Thor would call it a friendship - had fizzled out, and now they were both left in the 'we've broken the ice but I still don't really know you but I sort of want to but I don't really know how to go about it, because, you know... we don't know each other, so I don't want to impose' stage of their relationship. Thor already loved spending time with Loki, and was more than happy to get to know him more, but this whole thing had sort of thrown him off-kilter. Thor was out of his depth, and Loki was obviously too agitated thinking about the race to make much conversation, so Thor was left to stew in the passenger seat.

He tried to make the most of it and just relax.

It explained a lot, though, really, the street racing thing; Thor'd spent hours trying to figure out why he couldn't find a single hint about today's race online. At the time, he'd just supposed it wasn't big enough to have any media coverage. Or information for competitors, or anything, at all. In hindsight, maybe it was all a bit obvious.

Thor was also going to go ahead and assume that Loki didn't realize that his uncle was a cop, and he was also going to hopefully never bring it up. Ever.

He alternated between gazing over the windshield at the sky ahead, and using it to watch Loki's reflection, so that he could see the way Loki's slim fingers curled around the wheel. He watched his face as he focused on the road. It was calmer like that – when Loki forgot, temporarily, that he wasn't alone - than at any other time. Unnoticed, Thor could see how Loki's hair looked when the wind took it, and the perfect way the collar of his leather jacket curled around his neck.

Then Thor realized what he was doing, blushed and turned back to the scenery, picking at his hands. Loki hadn't seemed to notice.

* * *

They stopped on the outskirts of another, smaller city that Thor'd never seen, perhaps an hour and a half out of Midgard, to pick up Freya and exchange cars at the shop.

Freya was a Hollywood beauty. She sported effortless golden tresses and, usually, absolutely filthy overalls, complete with a hick checkered button-up. Today was no exception.

Because Loki's race car had already been taken away, they piled, along with assorted snacks and machinery, into Freya's beat up Mini Cooper. Loki was going to drive them (he needed to get in the mood, Freya said) to the race track. Or… whatever it was that street racers street raced on. A street somewhere, presumably. _Oh my God_, Thor thought, _whatever you do, keep this fascinating monologue to yourself._

As they started off, he was reassured that it wouldn't be more than another hour.

* * *

Gradually the road became winding, taking them up between hills and along the side of a loping valley. The methodically aligned fields gave way to forests, with trees with chapped bark that arched protectively over the one-lane road to allow only dappled patches of sunlight onto the car as it passed beneath them. The barns and towns fell away. Soon there was only the filtered light and silence, broken by Loki sucking in breath as he narrowly missed potholes. It was almost mesmerizingly peaceful.

Loki had to slow down as the quality of the surface deteriorated, careful not to damage the Mini's underside. Thor looked out into the woods, almost completely absorbed, but he could hear by the clacking of Loki's nails on the wheel that he was getting agitated. 'We're going to be late,' Loki finally said.

'Mm, so's he, darling,' said Freya. 'And we're almost there. Don't worry.'

Loki banked sharply to the left, following the snaking road. Around the bend there was nothing but more forest. 'Where are we going?' Thor asked, curiosity finally piqued enough to tear him from the view. He leaned forward into the gap between the two front seats. 'We're in the middle of nowhere. How can we be "nearly there"?'

Loki chose that exact moment to slam on the breaks so hard that Thor went tumbling over the gearbox, slamming bad his forearm against the dashboard.

Picking himself up, Thor swore vehemently and glanced forward. Across the road was a lazy barricade, complete with an unhelpful 'closed' sign, that had come practically out of nowhere.

Loki tried to put the car into reverse, but Freya whipped her hand onto his forearm before he could reach the gearstick, not taking her eyes off of the road ahead. 'This is us,' she said.

Loki glanced at Freya, and then Thor. Then he drove forwards, veering up onto the verge to get around the road block. Thor waited a beat. Hm. No, they really were serious. 'Hang on,' he said, and then was bucked unceremoniously back into his seat as the Mini dropped back onto the road again. In the front, Loki sighed. 'Look, Thor,' he began apologetically, but stopped almost immediately. Because, as they completed the bend the barricade was on, two men in bright yellow tabards came into view on the side of the road.

Thor decided to keep quiet as the car drew up beside them. They'd only be turned around, he supposed.

But what happened instead was: one of the men lifted a walkie-talkie and said something into it (before the window was down, so Thor couldn't hear it), and the other waved them on. And the car drove off.

_Ah._ Of course. Street racing.

After they'd driven around the barrier, the terrain evened out; the section of road they drove on recently renovated. And up ahead, the forest ended. Abruptly. Thor could see through the mouth of the trees that the path was flooded in sunlight, and suddenly the sky was there again, piercingly blue.

When they came out into the open, Thor saw that they'd entered what was essentially a massive valley, miles and miles across, so expansive that there was practically no inclination towards the centre at all, punctuated with knolls and sections of forest and untilled fields. On every hazy horizon was another hill, boxing them in. But the essential part was that every building – every old barn, every lot, all of them nucleating around what was obviously an abandoned quarry – was completely empty. It was obvious that whatever business had been here however many years ago had upped and left one day, and the people had joined it.

Now, however, the place was quietly teeming with life. Shady, non governmentally sanctioned life.

They drove into the centre of it, just above the quarry. Loki and Freya spoke business with some official looking triplets in their late twenties and the bureaucratic stuff was taken care of. Guiding fingers were pointed, names were ticked off. There were different places for people serving different purposes, and for competitors contending at different times – apparently Loki's race wasn't the only one that day. The whole set-up was surprisingly methodical, Thor noted.

He mused stonily to himself in the back of the car, slightly grumpy with the fact that he felt like even more of a dead weight now that they were actually here.

There was a hill near the starting line – or what was being passed as a starting line – where the spectators were, and after they parked, Freya guided Thor towards it before she went to join Loki in the competitors-and-crew section.

'I bet you're wondering what you're doing here, sweetheart,' she purred sympathetically to Thor when they got there.

'I… yes,' he admitted, surprised and also sheepish. Freya grinned wolfishly at him, and delayed her answer to snag the arm of a passing teenager laden with various drinks. She scooped up as many champagne flutes between her fingers as she could, and then turned back to Thor.

'For moral support, you see. So you have to trot over when I holler at you later. Until then, stay here, relax, meet the team.' She gestured towards several waving crowd members, obviously the Vanir Motors party who'd arrived earlier with Loki's car (or, at least, those members who weren't with Loki right now). 'They'll tell you more about what's going on, who we like... who we don't like, and who you don't even want to make eye contact with,' she explained. 'And as well as all that, you can fulfill your primary duty. Hold my drink.'

So saying, she handed two of the flutes to Thor and whirled away.

_How glamorous_, he thought, _for someone dressed like an urchin_, and then he berated himself for actually fitting the word 'urchin' into a sentence. When he turned to find the crew in the crowd, he'd already lost them. So he climbed to the top of the hill, where he could see the drivers, and waited.

Thor remembered the last time he'd seen Freya: thanksgiving. She had been, giggling and tipsy, complaining about her ditzy tendency to burn cooking, and apologizing on behalf of her hideously boring accountant brother, who was tied up with his job in America and so couldn't make it. In short, she'd been a completely different person.

Now, Thor was sitting by himself, champagne(s) in hand, watching various people congregate around the starting line, Freya one of them. He wondered if Freyr was secretly a Formula One driver, or maybe a masked justice vigilante who scoured alleyways in the dead of night, hunting evildoers.

Thor narrowed his eyes at Freya, mentally willing her to give him something to do. Loki seemed preoccupied, and had done the whole day, understandably – and so Freya was his only bet, but she hadn't even glanced in his direction, so he picked at the rim of his plastic glass and let his eyes roam the congregation instead.

More men and women in black shirts were walking around taking bets indiscretely on the hill, whilst offering beer, champagne and snacks. And of the several hundred people he'd seen so far today, maybe 40 were absolutely dripping with technical equipment, walking to and from a stand set up around a camper van, which was covered in jumbled wires, laptops, satellite dishes, and – well, Thor was no bank robber, but he'd seen enough action films to know what a police radio scanner looked like.

On the hill, there were several people for whom it was obvious to him that this was merely a day out, a chance to picnic in the midst of what was obviously one of the worst kept secrets in… Berkshire, was it? Those who didn't fit into that category and weren't officiating in some way either represented one of the parties racing, or intended to place bets. That was obviously how this whole arrangement made a profit. Some of them were oddly well-dressed; suited and turning up their noses at scruffier crowd members. Others looked like they might be Hell's Angels on a day off. Thor remembered Freya's comment about eye contact, and for the first time wondered if she might not have been joking.

Beside the hill there were tents and lorries, for betting and for food, he supposed. All of the action nucleated around the starting line, but it sprawled out, too, in every direction, up and down the quarry. Further off there were still people walking around hurriedly, meeting contacts, slipping into the backs of vans, using the day as an opportunity to do other business. The place almost felt like a literal black market.

Directly on the other side of the start line, falling into the quarry, was the competitors' section. Cars lined gravel pits, crews huddled around themselves, and massive semis trailed in from the east, bringing more people, more cars.

Thor was in the middle of wondering, for maybe the 28th time, how it could be that _no one_ knew about any of this, when he caught Freya in his peripheral vision, down on the track (which was really, as he'd predicted, just a wide, unmarked road).

She had her hand on her hip, and she was beckoning him.


	7. January, 2014 IV

Thor perked his head up and practically tripped over himself trying to skirt down the hill. He edged around assorted audience members, then got to the top of one of the small stands that'd been set up and ran down the benches, two at a time, taking care not to spill the drinks.

Freya was standing, completely unperturbed, in the middle of a swarm of assorted vehicles; rally cars, off-road cars, some bog-standard sports cars and some bikes, all going nowhere fast. Since they'd arrived, two sets of around 10 cars had taken off from the starting line (finishing, obviously, somewhere else). There was a constant sound of tires on track, and engines, reverberating around the valley, and nearby, people were driving into and around a sort of collecting ring off to the side. But Freya looked as comfortable as if she were in her own living room.

When he finally reached her, she was grinning at him with her hands on her hips, looking as if she were trying not to double over laughing. He saw now that she'd changed slightly, and had her hair in a scruffy bun, with a cap and matching jacket sporting the 'Vanir Motors' logo.

Loki was nowhere to be seen.

'Your drink,' Thor offered, winded, and then made himself busy trying not to look as afraid as he was of ending up as roadkill. Freya waved the champagne away immediately and took his hand, dragging him across the road to one of the paths that lead down to the quarry.

On the other side, safely out of the way, they could see almost all of the activity in the competitors' section below them. Freya looked around, thoughtful, and then indicated one of the fairly glitzy looking lorries that had just pulled in. It was lowering its ramp.

As Thor watched, a car was reversed straight out of the back of the lorry, shooting over the ramp and slamming ungracefully into the ground. The few men who'd been buzzing around it jumped back, obviously startled, and then stood around uselessly as the driver carried on, backwards, at quite a pace, all the way up the hill towards Thor and Freya. It looked to Thor like a normal, if slightly bulky, sports car, but it came at them so quickly that he had to resist the urge to jump back. The car backed directly onto the main road, narrowly missed some pedestrians, and then gave a colossal screech as it spun around to end up at the starting line facing the right direction.

'What an asshole,' Freya commented, deadpan, taking the words right out of Thor's mouth.

Then she turned to him, and her charming grin was back. 'Right. Come with me.'

Thor was really more interested in knowing what exactly Freya was trying to achieve by all this, but he followed without a word.

She dragged them a few feet away, so that there was a group of chatting staff in between them and the stands across the road. She bobbed her head around until she could find what she was looking for through their cover, and then pulled Thor closer to her so he could see what, or rather, who, she was gesturing at.

She smelled of engine oil and vanilla.

'For context,' Freya whispered, probably making herself more noticeable rather than less by doing so, 'do you see that lady?'

Thor did; he told her so. An older woman, standing at the base of the hill with some of the more dull looking viewers. She was trying and failing miserably to pretend she was absorbed with something on her phone. She kept glancing over at the driver of the orange car that'd backed up the hill, who was now gesticulating obnoxiously to a group of his friends, laughing and slapping his car at intervals.

'All right,' Freya continued, facing him now. 'Long story short: she's the one who owns Loki's car. It's been in the shop all winter. But this guy, our only opponent, by the way, there're only two cars, is on her payroll. So she's going to bet against us, because this is Loki's first race, so technically he hasn't a chance.'

His _first_? That was new. Thor whipped his head around to make a comment, but was quickly interrupted. 'He's doing a warm up lap but he'll be back any second now. The timer above the stands, you probably saw it earlier, is our countdown. We've only got a few minutes. When he gets here I'm going to check on the car one last time with the crew, and then talk to Letitia quickly, so I won't have much time with Loki before they go. Howard, however, because he's a predictable piece of shit, is going to try and psych Loki out. And Loki, because, although I love him, he is a _guy_, is going to bite the hook. So I need you- I need you to distract them. Got that?'

'Er.' Thor wanted to ask what exactly it was that she wanted him to _do_, but, before he had the chance, Freya had ducked through the group in front of them and jogged over to meet Loki, who, sure enough, had just come around a corner towards the start. As soon as he'd stopped, he jumped out of the driver's door, unsubtly avoiding Freya, and strode confidently towards Howards, or Howard or whatever. _Idiot_, Thor thought.

Howard apparently thought so too, because he broke into an extremely unattractive grin as he greeted Loki.

Thor glanced around uncertainly, looking for inspiration. If there was one thing worse than a clueless kid trying squeakily to demand respect from someone like Howard (who, by the looks at him, hadn't paid for his lunch _once_ in high school), it was _two_ kids doing it.

He didn't have much time. The starting line was being cleared of vehicles and officials, other than those involved in the race, and Loki and his opponent's names and basic information were being announced over the speaker system.

Freya turned suddenly from the car and walked back towards the woman, Letitia, who was smiling wanly at her. As she passed Thor, Freya flapped her hand at him very agitatedly, pulling a face.

Thor made an executive decision.

He hopped from one foot to the other, groaned out loud and then snatched up an oversized black windbreaker that'd been draped over a folding chair. Throwing his own jean jacket aside, Thor donned the stolen one, and ran across the road to Loki, zipping it up as he went.

When Thor arrived, Loki was being patronized horribly. Howard and his lackeys were practically _sneering_ at him, insulting everything from his car to his accent with moderate and polite voices, and although Loki was holding his own, outwardly calm, he was tapping his fingers against his clasped knuckles behind his back, obviously agitated.

As Thor drew up, Loki turned to face him, mouth open in greeting, and then saw what he'd done and cleverly shut up.

Loki pursed his lips and glared knives at Thor, trying as hard as he could to shoo him away without actually saying anything, but Thor, grimacing internally, ignored him entirely.

'Loki Liesmith?' he asked, addressing Howard.

Howard snorted at him.

'I don't think so, buddy,' he said. 'Can I help you? We're sort of in the middle of something here.' He nodded at Loki, who had turned around again, face calculatedly blank.

'Oh!' Thor exclaimed, feigning surprise, and gave an apologetic head-bow. 'I'm so sorry. Excuse me. It's just that it's usually the rookies who showboat like that!' He gave a little laugh, and then stopped himself as if he'd just realized what he'd said.

Howard, having now been insulted as well as interrupted in his tirade, looked as if he might internally combust. Before he could comment, though, Thor cut him off with another stuttered apology and turned to Loki. 'I'm so sorry to interrupt. Really. But your crew is asking after you. There might be a problem with the car.'

Loki raised his eyebrows in concern and nodded. 'Of course,' he said, and then wished Howard, who was still fuming, good luck. As Loki turned to go, Thor caught his shoulder. 'Also,' he said, wondering as he did so exactly _what_ he was thinking, 'we want to know if you want to place a bet.'

'I already have,' said Loki, smoothly but with unconcealed warning in his voice.

'Of course. But we thought you might want to raise it. With the odds as they are, you – well, I don't want to be frank, but you might as well have not bothered, you see. So we were quite surprised, and wondered if there'd been a mistake.'

Loki regarded him steadily. 'Thank you, but that's quite alright,' he said. 'Is that all?'

'Hang on, kid' said Howard, finally finding his voice. He jabbed a finger at Loki. 'You do know that _he's _Liesmith, and _I'm_ Michael Howard.'

'Of course,' said Thor, and apologized _one_ last time. 'If you'll please excuse me, sir, I should explain the problem…' he pointed at Loki, who was turning to go, and then jogged to catch up with him without waiting to be excused.

'I'm _so sorry_,' Thor hissed out of the corner of his mouth. 'That was- if he realizes, I mean… I shouldn't've…'

'It's quite alright,' Loki grinned, facing forwards as they walked. He lit a cigarette. 'Quite frankly I think it was worth it, just to see the look on his face.'

Thor tried not to beam. That short sentence had somehow made his entire morning of feeling like a fish out of water completely worth it. Besides, who cared if Howard found out who he really was? It wouldn't matter in a few minutes anyways. As it was, he'd spend the time slightly baffled either way.

When they reached the car, Freya was there, looking very inquisitively at the two of them. 'I take it there's not actually a problem with the car?' Loki asked, effectively preventing her queries.

'No…' Freya gave them one last curious glance, and then quickly addressed Loki. 'Know the course? All ready?' she asked.

'As I'll ever be.'

'Right.' She shooed away the crew. 'Now, Loki, look at me. Pep talk time.'

'I know that this's been eating away at you for weeks. And I know how worried you are. But the thing is; the weather, the car, it doesn't matter. None of it matters. Because you're an amazing driver, and a total genius, and you were _made_ for this. And I know a large part of you's scared. But, darling, it's completely pointless, because you've genuinely got _nothing _to fear. So I want you to take a deep breath, promise you'll be a gentleman no matter what happens, and then go out there and _annihilate_ him.'

So saying, she punched Loki, hard, in the upper arm. He swore viciously, looking for a second as if he might reciprocate, and then growled lowly at her. '_Thank_ you,' he muttered. '_So _helpful.'

'Any time.' Freya grinned charismatically. 'You've got 55 seconds.'

She backed away.

Loki stood outside of the driver's door while he finished his cigarette, and there was a tense lull in the day's rushed activity as he looked at Thor, who was now the only one still waiting by the car. Thor broke the silence by saying the first thing that came into his head.

'Kiss my cast for good luck?'

Loki groaned out loud and rolled his eyes, leaning back against the car. 'Dream _on_, Odinson,' he said. He pushed himself forward and swung open his door.

Loki rolled his way into the seat, simultaneously throwing the remains of his cigarette on the ground. He slammed the door shut so he could smirk at Thor from behind the glass.

Thor grinned and dipped his head in mock dejection, bowing out of Loki's picture so he could focus as the timer reached the single digits. Freya caught him and led him back to the sidelines, where the crew was. Well, there were really only two of them right now. Freya tried to introduce them - he caught that the girl was called Annie - but Thor couldn't tear his eyes from the cars.

Their engines revved deafeningly as the timer blinked down. Flag guy got himself ready.

Four seconds. Three. Two.

In the time between '1' and '0', Thor felt within himself as if a precipice had been reached. No one else seemed too bothered at that moment. Freya was relaxed by his side. The crew was chatting hushedly. But Thor was, he realized, terrified.

Loki just stared out at the open road.

And then it was over. The flag was waved, and the cars were around the corner barely before Thor could blink.

That was it.

They were gone. _Extroardinarily _fast, for street legal sports cars.

Thor just stood still for a while, temporarily stunned, and feeling extremely deflated. Then Freya patted his back. 'Come on,' she shouted, excitedly, 'we can see them finish over the hill.'

Thor snapped back to reality and nodded, running to get his denim jacket back before sprinting after the other three. He dodged waiters and hurdled an entire picnic spread, suddenly terrified that he might miss the finish. How could Loki sit there and look so _calm_, he wondered, when he himself felt sick to his stomach? Thor was positively strumming with the nervous excitement that he recognized so easily from his own matches. He could tell, when he reached the top of the hill and saw Freya clutching both of her employees as if they might fly away, that she felt the same.

Breathless, he jogged down to meet them. They were still at a higher elevation than the track, which finished only a few hundred meters from the start, right by a woods, stretching out like a runway into the sunlight. He could see the last few bends in the road, and the final stretch down to the finish line. And he could _hear – _still distant, but getting close – Loki and Howard's engines as the cars tore across the valley. 'How fast is the circuit?' he asked hurriedly.

It was the Annie who answered him. 'Only a few minutes. They'll come around the corner any second.'

Thor nodded and turned back to first bend the cars would come around. _Come on, Loki_, he thought, and crossed his fingers like he hadn't in years, shaking his hands impatiently. _Come on, come on._

Seeing a car race in person was nothing like when Thor had watched them on TV – the heat and tension in the atmosphere, the smell throughout the complex of burnt rubber, and the sheer _noise_, were all absolutely encapsulating for him. It was _addictive_.

He didn't realize he was wishing out loud until Annie shushed him, smirking. He apologized and waited, silently, trying to keep still, eyes on the crucial bend in the road.

He didn't have to wait long.

When the cars appeared, the man on Freya's other side smacked his thigh and swore. Freya didn't say anything, and kept her gaze fixedly on the cars – Howard was in the lead.

Thor knew from the races on TV how agonizing it could be for a driver to be trapped behind a car, spending crucial time looking for an opening, and when the chance _finally_ came to overtake, it was usually drawn out for ages as both cars progressed along the track. In the few times Thor'd seen this, he'd found himself itching with agitation just watching.

He didn't know if it was because it was real this time, or because the cars were still so far away, but Loki did not look like this.

He was making the pursuit look like a game of cat and mouse. Howard was swerving jerkily, losing momentum, obviously phased by Loki's proximity, and on every bend, at every gap Howard left in the road, Loki was there, teasing his way ahead.

Howard's larger car was actually more suited to aggressive moves like Loki's, but it didn't seem to make a difference. Loki couldn't be shouldered out of the way. When Howard followed a curve on the inside to the left, Loki was on his outside, matching his angular speed despite the extra coverage. When Howard allowed himself to drift out, Loki was suddenly on his left, as if completely on accident. Howard was completely aware of the game being played with him, and that Loki was simply waiting for him to mess up, to take a turn too quickly in his haste, and end up skidding off course, but there was nothing he could do to stop Loki. And so when they approached the final bend in the road, Howard slowed.

He was at the end. He'd almost won. Despite his snappy temperament, he wasn't taking risks.

He hadn't fallen for it.

But he decelerated too late. He was still slowing as he took the turn, as close to the inside as possible.

Watching it from in front, Thor wasn't really sure when or how it happened. He just knew that all of a sudden the cars were side by side, and there was a colossal screech, and then Loki was in front, just like that.

The noise – tire roar, Thor realized - didn't stop as Loki drew away, leaving Howard, already far too slow to catch up, trying desperately to match his speed. It didn't stop until he was well over the finish line, cruising to a neat stop hundreds of meters down the road, to cheers from the crowd behind them. Most of them, it seemed, didn't care who won so long as there was a good show.

And it was Loki. Who 'hadn't had a chance'. _Loki_ had won.

Freya gave a whoop of joy and jumped straight into the air, hugging Thor, who had shouted far too loud when Loki stopped the clocks as he streaked across the finish line. She tore away after Loki, throwing up her hands as she went. The two crew members soon followed, laughing and shaking each other, excitedly calculating their winnings, and Thor was left grinning on the slope.

Freya was right, Thor realized. It didn't matter what car he was in, or the sun was too dazzling, or whether both his _arms_ were broken. Loki was the better driver.

Loki drove just like he walked, or wrote, or spoke – beautifully. With the same, precise, deadly grace of a knife or a viper. Thor felt as if he'd had a great honor bestowed upon him, being allowed to see Loki drive like this. It was nothing _like_ how he'd been in the Mini.

It was nothing like anything Thor had ever seen. So enviably _easy_.

After a while, he clapped his hands once, winced in pain, and cheered again, before starting off in a slow lope towards Loki.

* * *

That evening Thor sat quietly by himself, and didn't say a word.

The apartment was a total bombsite, and, of course, instead of doing anything to rectify the situation, his flatmates had decided instead to cover the fray in a thin layer of empty beer bottles and, in Tony's case, circuit boards.

Tony himself was draped on top of a bookshelf in their living room, assorted mechanical tools supported by a pile of musty Greek dictionaries, trying to rearrange the wires falling from the back of their flatscreen in a way that'd somehow get them free Sky. Bruce had gotten up to try convince him to lay off for a while so that Thor, Steve and he could finish their horror film without the image blurring, but they'd quickly gotten into a heated discussion about their team name, and lost track of the original conversation entirely.

Thor was caught between listening to Bruce and Tony, trying to watch the film, and wondering if he could be bothered to go up and get something to drink, and had ended up doing none of those things and staring into space, thinking about Loki Liesmith.

'but I still don't see what's wrong,' Bruce was insisting, 'with "MUAMAC", Tony. It makes perfect sense-'

'And it's _boring!_ What does it even stand for, anyways? Something something… "_assorted martial arts"_? Really?'

'Well, look, we're not calling ourselves-'

'I'm just saying-'

'Steve! Back me up here, you're the captain. Tony's just a glorified groupie, he can't even box.' Tony scoffed. 'He wants to call us the _Avengers._'

Steve laughed out loud. 'Who on Earth are we avenging?' He asked.

'The originality of my so-called _friends_, for one thing,' said Tony, who was still mucking around with some electrical cables. 'And _also-'_

The screen gave a helpless blip and went completely black. Nobody spoke.

'Fuck,' said Tony, 'that's the fuse. Thor, buddy, could you maybe go into the hall and…?'

'Thor?'

'Hm?' asked Thor, who had been staring attentively at a mysterious stain on the wall. Tony had to rephrase the question.

'Oh,' he said. 'Right. Of course.'

He left to some odd staring. As he closed the door behind him, he could just make out Tony saying, 'oh, don't worry about him, he's just depressed because he got left here all alone all day. Poor puppy.'

Thor restarted the fuse, and then went into the kitchen, where he could have some peace. He poured himself some orange juice and leaned heavily on the counter, deep in thought.

He didn't know what to do.

Thor liked Loki. He'd had a great time today. But he'd promised himself, after their first disastrous meeting, that he'd sell him the car and then leave things at that. There was nothing Thor had experienced before that troubled him as much as the look of _fear_ on Loki's face when he approached him in the lecture hall that day.

In fact, after that, he hadn't even intended to try to sell him the car. He'd just wanted things to go back to normal – with each of the two of them politely ignoring each other.

That'd gone well.

But then they'd hit it off. And Loki'd invited him along today, and… Thor couldn't lie, he'd _loved_ it. He wanted to do it again. But he knew things wouldn't be straightforward. He'd have to be conscious, and aware of Loki's weird mannerisms - _I mean, does he even like me? Does he _hate_ me? I _don't know - and maybe even secretive, especially about Vanir Motors, which Loki seemed to prize like a gold hoard. There was no way around it. Loki was definitely… not normal.

In the end, though, Thor had to admit that saying to himself that he could choose whether to say 'screw it' and just go for it, or to, from now on, just pretend that none of this had happened at all, was just like telling himself that he could choose whether to breathe with his lungs or his _gills_.

Thor was enraptured. Whether it was by Loki, or Vanir Motors, or simply the eccentric way he'd been brought into it all; it didn't matter. He couldn't give up the way he already felt when he joked with Loki, or saw new things with Loki, or just _saw Loki._

In the end… In the end he supposed he'd just have to follow this path, and see where it took him.


End file.
